Feathered flashes of hope
A Feathered Flash crashed
on the catwalks of the world!
Sleek, meek
waddling wonders,
humble epitomes of parenting,
paragons of the bird populace
took to life’s stage.
Through the aeons of time,
they strut.
Like models
vogued in the art
of evolutionary millinery,
Feathered Fashion Plates
like none other.
Evolutionary epitomes of hope
originating in the dense dank
shelter of rainforests,
in that other land of flightless birds,
across the ditch.
Not far but yet eons apart are they,
in the art of survival.
They strut,
they waddle,
they dive,
they survive,
they live,
they give,
with the utmost endurance.
On the rocky precipices of the Galapagos.
in the traffic ridden ridges,
of Cape Town streets.
in the whitened expanses
of frosted freezing Antarctica
survival is maintained intact.
Survival is assured.
Image: 123rf.com/Anthony Lister.
They strut,
they waddle,
they dive,
they survive,
they live,
they give,
with the utmost endurance.
In our time,
in our place.
In the moment of the now.
In our time,
in our place,
in the horror of the virus,
of the ever impending pandemic.
We too,
like them
can not only survive,
but adapt,
and thrive,
and tip our feathers
to waddle forth on the catwalks of our world.
Penguins of the world,
we tip our hats to you,
for in you is imbued
the art of parenting and
the art of resilience
the art of survival.
Humans of the world
take heart
like the humble
lowly, pardon me not lowly.
Like the Emperor
of the world,
a vogue of a penguin
The time has come for us.
Humans one and all
it’s time
to fluff out our feathers,
preen, glisten and glow
in the oil of Easter light
for Vaccine armed, we can take heart, yes oh yes
A feathered flash
crashed in my mind
a feathered flash
crowned in golden yellow
a feathered flash
caught in a sun lit wave
captured my imagination
and lay the gift of HOPE at my feet.
Is not this what Easter means?
Is not this what waiting for the breath of the Spirit at Pentecost is?
Is not this life?
– Marie Casamento SGS
